Real Photographer?

10661717_653826504730895_3842677399764929265_oCan you tell us where you stand, on the debate, concerning the “real photographer”?

“I’d have to say, that is usually in the hot sun’.

This was a sticky page.

As administrator of this blog, I have tagged this page to make it my cover, until I decide to change it. I maintain a minimalist presence. My – who am I – and who I am not – was written in the embryonic stage, of this venture. It gives you a synapses synopsis, of Secondhand Surfer ~ unburdened by detail. That is the nature of this journal. It is the “essence” of.

My posts are photos and poems, opinions and confessions. At times I am cryptic, while at others, embarrassingly revealing.

The unexamined life is not worth living.

After thirteen years studying and pursuing a spiritual life, I chose to move beyond what I knew. I decided to Let Go, and leap forward into the unknown. I crossed the threshold of my front door, and began to navigate life, blindfold. Many years later, one day at a time, I continue surrendering to Providence. Continue reading Real Photographer?

Dumb Questions


Don’t tell anyone, but ten years ago today, I was on a trip in Mexico. I was doing my usual thing, wandering off from everyone and everything. I was inhaling hot sun and exhaling residual U.S. toxins. One of my favorite pastimes. I was admiring the cactus. I was a little nervous; on edge. I felt alone.

I mean really alone. I felt as existential as a roadside chicken.

Then I saw it. There at my feet was a piece of cloth; worn burlap. It appeared to be something buried. I squatted and began to dig. My mind said, walk away, this is trash. What are you doing? But I couldn’t stop. My curiosity had me.

And I’m so glad I didn’t, because what I found was gold. An actual buried gold brick. What! Continue reading Dumb Questions

Learn to Surf!


She said surfing is the “best”.

This woman is a student surfer, in her third class at Witches’s Rock Surf Camp, in Playa Tamarindo, Costa Rica.

If you’ve ever wanted to try it. Do!

Don’t allow hang ups of age, gender or size stop you.

You too can catch a wave and stand up.IMG_8773..Then you get to paddle back out and do it again!

For some, like myself, this is key – on the path to happiness.

Pura Vida

Eye Am Art

I downloaded surf photos for my Facebook Page-Secondhand Surfer . I can study my pictures over and over and never become bored. It was the same way with my painting. I believe S ~ S is just a part of my personal, artistic process. It’s an obsessive observation of life, waves, people, composition and color. It is a necessary part of life. Either you are an artist or you are the other; all being a part of the whole.

Art is not a slice of the pie, but an inescapable layer.

I remember when I was studying for a Fine Arts Degree and I had it set in my mind;  I was going to be a master of the old ways. What was I thinking? I’ve always been hard – headed like that.

But things happened. I finished school. Life changed. First, I went to the jungle for a few years with no paints or brushes. There were no surfaces to paint on. I was jarred into a new reality. I was away from computers, telephones and all things modern. All I had to do, day in and day out, was surf and survive. It was my living.

Being a visual artist, I constantly felt the need to create. It presented itself in the form of building my house and planting my garden. I once put up a fence around my lot, for privacy. My neighbors said it looked like a hula skirt. It was a frame built and covered it with palm fronds. All along, I’ve tried to  make my home look like a fairy tale cottage. It’s not that hard to do in Costa Rica.

As time passed, civilization crept in.

Through the years people came and went. One night, in 2010 (I think)  listening to Latin music blaring louder than music should ever be played, I made some new friends. It was that easy. I just said hello. They were starting a new local magazine, QUE. I began to take photos and write an art column for them. That was nine years into the Costa Rica experience and that chance meeting, quick fix, edited my life.

Everything just fell into place. Poco a Poco.

But now Poco a Poco had a digital flair!

This is one of the articles that I wrote for Que Magazine.268489_231932176829434_7603917_nI’m super grateful to my friend Brian who said yes, when I asked him about writing the article and I’m grateful for Jeff, who went along with Brian, when he had never even met me.

It’s amazing how if you let go in life things unfold.

Everything in my world told me that art is meaningless. But, I always new better.

Eye Am Art

Hitchhike to California

IMG_7617meThis photo was taken by John Lyman, at my favorite surf break, in Costa Rica. Of all the years I’ve surfed, and all the waves I’ve ridden, I have very few pictures. I have been on waves way bigger than this one. They are burnt in my brain forever. The battle to take the wave, falling over the ledge, and the drama of hanging on, is part of my senses.

A captured moment, such as this, can pull the memory trigger on not just one wave, but dozens.

I’m fortunate I have this image at all. I had to pay to get it.

I am not a ripper. My claim to fame, use to be, that I would charge waves that women were not on. But that’s history; something way in the past. For one, I’m not aggressive for bigger waves and two, the line-up can be filled with women.

I still sit out and wait on the set waves. I always like it when I get the wave of the day. But more and more, as my boards get longer and longer, I try to style it, on small waves. They make me laugh.

Each and every wave has a life of its own.

Every surfer is photo worthy.

As a photographer, I spend my time, working to capture the best of a surfer’s abilities. It takes time, patience, and sometimes giving up shots of the better and best surfers. I ply my trade on the beaches of Amelia Island.


That and five dollars will get me a cup of coffee at Starbucks.


If you’re hitchhiking to California, and you put your thumb out, then no one gives you a ride ~  If you stop walking you will never get there.

I don’t want to stop my photography, no matter what!


Once again I checked out the Daily Prompt. It’s a question. You’re locked in a room with your greatest fear. Describe what’s in the room.

I guess that’s not really a question. What are you most afraid of? That’s a question.

I read 1984. I read it in 1971. The main character was locked into a room with rats. That was his greatest fear, and his tormentors, the government, knew what terrified him most. That’s the way I remember it.

I recall thinking about that, with genuine concern. I asked my teacher, How did they know?




Just use your imagination. It use to be quite a stretch, but not anymore. Big Brother is definitely watching us.

Daily Inventory

IMG_7482shsSomeone, somewhere would enjoy this picture. Because it’s them! This photo is yet another from Hurricane Sandy. I know Sandy caused horrific destruction on the northern coast, but it generated a few days of great surf here, on Amelia Island.

This particular wave, like many that I took, was shot early in the morning, into our Eastern sun rise.

Secondhand Surfer now has a Facebook page and this is my photo entry for the day.

I plan to post one a day this year.